"Yet with these April sunsets"

 

A bouquet for the house, with the delicate scent of lilac each time you walk by-- in aromatherapy, used to ease anxiety. 

A hardy, almost indestructible shrub, there are still old lilacs growing on almost every block in West Seattle. As you walk along, the strong but light fragrance is evocative of every spring you can remember. 

One of my favorite poems, "Portrait of a Lady" by T.S. Eliot (featured before on this blog) tells a poignant story about a young man visiting an upper class English lady with whom he's had a relationship. He says he's leaving on an extended trip abroad. She puts on a brave face, but has some sharp words about the cruelty of youth:

 Now that lilacs are in bloom
She has a bowl of lilacs in her room
And twists one in her fingers while she talks.

"Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know
What life is, you who hold it in your hands
(Slowly twisting the lilac stalks.)

"You let it flow from you, you let it flow,
And youth is cruel, and has no remorse
And smiles at situations which it cannot see."
 
I smile, of course,
And go on drinking tea.

"Yet with these April sunsets, that somehow recall
My buried life, and Paris in the Spring,
I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world
To be wonderful and youthful, after all."

Well! We're headed into a divine stretch of spring weather, as good as it gets, with temps in the high 70's this weekend. "Hot" enough for the locals to start complaining. 

 

Yesterday was my recovery day from the long drive, but today the garden tools come out for some catch up work.